BASEBALL SPIKES, YIKES

I saw a headline today about Spring training.  Really.  These days I didn't think that professional baseball even existed any more.  I got so disgusted with the antics of the baseball establishment some 20 or 25 years ago that I decided that they didn't need me any more and I sure as shooting didn't need them.  With the way things have been going, is there still some Fleers Bubble Gum on the market?  Maybe I could look it up, 


but I'm not interested in that neither.
The spikes off to the side were the high top variety.  I didn't ever own a pair of those.  I had the low-cut ones that were made out of kangaroo leather.  Listen, they had to be of kangaroo leather because cows can't run fast enough to provide leather for speedy guys like baseball players.
It was quite a birthday the time I got my first pair of spikes.  EFR Dion had to put his foot on my wind-pipe to prevent me from wearing them to bed that night.  It was my birthday, I remember that.  It's easy to remember because my birthday is in Spring Training Season.  It's also easy to remember because I remember that he had not put up such a horrible fuss when I took my first baseball glove to bed with me.  Sometimes children just can't figure their parents out.  They're so moody from year to year. 
EFR must have had this thing about spikes because he was rather displeased when he caught me sharpening the teeth with a file, like I had read that Ty Cobb did.  I tell ya, that man gave me fits with his moods.
There is one thing for which I am grateful.  I grew up in an era when 10 year old boys were allowed to wear real spiked shoes on the baseball diamond.  We could have our own bats and yes, they were made out of wood.  All the years I played baseball I never saw a player get badly cut and I never, ever saw a bat splinter into flying shards.  I saw catchers get flattened by foul tips to the unmentionables; I personally took a bad hop to the jaw and had a hard time talking and eating for about a week; I one time had the wind knocked out of me and lost consciousness for about 2 or 3 minutes [I haven't got them back yet.  My own mini international dateline.], but I never saw anything bad happen because of defective equipment. 
So that's what I think about baseball players and the rest of the professional cry-baby crowd.  I'm glad that I don't spend my money on them any more.
By the way, what ever happened to the Boston Braves?